Buenos Aires 2

Hey everyone!
Week 2 is underway. Not a whole lot has happened since my last post, but I have a lot to write about nonetheless.

On Friday, we took a tour of the Evita Museum, dedicated to the life of Eva Peron, the wife of the former president Juan Peron. I have to admit that I knew very little about the Peronist government, and thus knew very little about Evita. I learned quite a bit from this museum. To describe her in a very concise manner is to understate her importance to the country, but nonetheless, the best way I can describe her is controversial. She was very well-liked by the lower and working classes, for Peron's government was a populist government, but she was also despised by the upper classes.

Basically, it goes like this: she was born into a poor family. Her mother was actually the mistress of a man who had another wife, and thus she was considered an illegitimate child, along with her siblings. She eventually worked her way up to becoming an actress. Being in the public eye, she caught the fancy of Juan Peron, and they got married. Peron instated economic policies that enraged the rich, because he commandeered their wealth and gave it to the poor. Alongside this, Eva spearheaded the “Eva Peron Institute” which provided goods to families. Apparently, when people come to the museum and see some of the goods which the Institute produced, they get teary-eyed. The mentality among some people is that “Eva saved my childhood,” since otherwise they would have had absolutely nothing. Despite having no official political office, Eva went on something called the “Rainbow Tour,” a diplomatic trip which took her all over Europe, North America and South America. However, her life ended rather abruptly at age 33 when she died of cervical cancer. Her story doesn't end there, though…her body lay in state for a few days, during which some opponents of the Peronist government stole her body , disfigured it, and hid it in various places throughout Buenos Aires. Eventually it was returned to the Peron family. Shortly afterwards, however, the Peronist government was overthrown in a military coup, and seized her body. It ended up in Italy, where it was buried under a false name. After much sleuthing, it was returned to Juan Peron, who was exiled in Spain at the time. He made a triumphant return to Argentina in the 1970s, and was once again elected president. The body of Eva now lies in the Recoleta Cemetary in the mausoleum owned by her family.
Alright, so sorry for the depressing story, but she is one of the most important figures in Argetinean history. I'll talk about something more pleasant now...my weekend! This requires an explanation of the concept of time in Argentina. Dinnertime is not 6:00pm or 6:30pm. It's 9:00pm, and even then, that's early…it's not uncommon to see people eating dinner at restaurants at 11:00pm. This means that the nightlife is wayyyy later than in the USA. Whereas most bars and clubs in the USA close at 2am, most bars and clubs in Argentina get into full swing at 2am! Now then, on Friday I went out with some members of my group. The school was hosting a party at an apartment, and we were there until 2:30am, after which we went to another bar. I got home at 5am…on Saturday, I slept in, did a bit of shopping, took a nap, and then had dinner with my host family. At 1am I went to a concert of a group called La Bomba del Tiempo, which is kind of like a drum circle. There were 17 drummers in the group, and I was astonished by the rhythms they created. It was almost entrancing, and everyone danced around the hall where the concert was held. At 3:30am they took a break. Yes, thats right, a break. I couldn't stand anymore, so I went home and went to bed at 4. Sunday was a very nice day, so I walked around to parts of the city I hadn't yet visited. This included San Telmo Square, which features an antiques market every Sunday. I saw everything from victrolas to old seltzer bottles to gaucho bullwhips (Argentine gauchos are kind of like American cowboys). Afterwards I walked along Puerto Madero, one of the city's port areas. Up until the 1990's it was characterized by decaying warehouses, as the better port was located further north. However, developers came in and turned the area into something much more pleasant. There are benches all along the walk along the port. People were sitting on the benches, drinking mate (ma-tay), the local tea, and enjoying the sun while others were walking and rollerblading along the port walk. There are lots of apartments, clubs and restaurants along the walk. Another interesting characteristic of the area is that all the streets are named after women, and the main attraction to the area is Puente de la Mujer, “Woman’s Bridge.” Here is a picture:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1a/Buenos_Aires-Puente_de_la_Mujer.jpg

Afterwards I walked home and fell asleep…it was a bit of a taxing weekend in a very fun way.
One of my roommates also moved out. She is a pediatric neurologist (sound familiar?) at a hospital in London. She’s going on to Mendoza, in the west of Argentina. We had a goodbye dinner on Saturday night, during which she asked if the host family wanted anything from England, of course meaning food, tea, whatever. The quote of the week was said in response. Quoth Sergio, my host father: “Mandame Margaret Thatcher” (send me Margaret Thatcher). Of course, this is reference to the Falklands War in 1982, during which Argentina attempted to seize the Falklands (or Malvinas as theyre called in Spanish), a British territory. The war ended disastrously for Argentina, and many people still resent Maggie Thatcher for waging the war.

More to come! I'm about to learn how to make empanadas...

Buenos Aires 1

Hey hey!

Greetings to all. Im writing from my language school in Buenos Aires, Argentina. A bit of a disclaimer at first; the keyboard Im using is not the best of quality (ie a lot of letters have rubbed off) and I havent quite figured out the Argentina keyboard layout, so please forgive any grammatical or spelling mistakes.

Bueno.

I guess a good place to start would be my first impressions. A representative from the school flagged me down at the airport, along with 4 others from my program who were on either the same flight or a flight that landed around the same time. We took a shuttle van from the airport to the city itself. The ride into town reminded me the ride into town of many European cities, however Paris and parts of Rome came to mind. I was taken immediately to my guest familýs house. The street on which Im living appears to be a relatively high class shopping street, with lots of boutiques, cafes and restaurants. The architecture is strongly reminiscent of Paris, because when this part of the city was being developed, all things French were still cool. Unfortunately, the first 2 days were marred by rain. Obviously though, Im not going to hold that against the city.

My host family is very nice. Theyre an old couple, with 3 children and 6 grandchildren of various ages. I also share the apartment with 2 other native English speakers, one American and one Brit. The American is out of town but should return tomorrow. I have not been able to speak to my host mother very much, as she is unfortunately sick and spends all day in bed. However, I get along with my host father very well. He is very knowledgeable about Argentine history, politics and society. Pretty much every dinner is a history lesson. Last night we talked about the Battle of the River Plate, which happened early on in World War 2. A German pocket battleship, the Admiral Graf Spee, plagued the Atlantic shipping lines during the early years of the war. Soon enough, the British navy sent a detachment to go after the ship, and eventually cornered it in the harbor of Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay (right across the River Plate from Buenos Aires). The Brits put up a blockade, and shipping into and out of the river ceased. Eventually, the ship was scuttled. Anyways...weve also talked about Argentinas past, such as the Peronist governments, Evita, as well as the Argentine soccer team and its world famous coach, Diego Maradona.

Celebracion del Bicentenario

This year and this week have been especially important for Argentina. 200 years ago yesterday, a revolution began, which ultimately led to Argentinas independence. Even though the actual day of independence is July 9, the Dia de la Revolucion del 25 de Mayo is the most important national holiday. There have been 3 days of celebrations. The main avenue, Avenida del 9 de Mayo, has been closed off to traffic and instead the streets have been packed with people, stages, information booths, and activities. Every state in Argentina was represented, and there were even food stands featuring the cuisine of the various ethnic groups that live in Argentina; Spanish, German, French, even Irish and Armenian!! The Argentines are some of the most naturally musical people Ive ever seen...one day on the avenue we were listening to a band. The song was in a complicated rhythm, yet the audience was able to clap along in PERFECT timing.

As a student of both history and political science, Ive found that Im very intrigued by the concept of nationalism. As an American, Im very used to the traditions of banal nationalism, such as flag-waving, independence day parades and patriotic songs. I have to say that after America, Argentina is the most tangibly nationalistic place Ive ever been to. This stands in stark contrast to nationalism in Germany, which is almost non-existant, even frowned upon (a direct result of Nazism). Here in Buenos Aires, every building has a giant Argentine flag, everyone wears a little flag on their lapels. It doesnt matter if its a shiny gold pin or a simple combination of light blue and white (the national colors) ribbons. Little children run through crowds eating blue and white cotton candy, draped in flags and adorned with flag headbands. One thing Ive learned about Argentina already is that these people LOVE their country.

So, Im only half a week into my 3.5 week trip, and there are a few things Im hoping to accomplish. Id like to learn more about past governments, particularly those under Juan Peron, and learn the peoples sentiments thereof. On a much less serious note, there are plans in the works to go to Uruguay for a weekend!

Ill try to do a better job of updating this blog than I did with the tail end of my time in Germany ;)

Dave

What I Miss About America

Things I miss about the United States

- My family. This one basically goes without explanation.

- My dog, Blitz. I anxiously await the day that I am greeted by him and his wagging tail at the front door.

- My friends. Also goes without explanation.

- Decent-sized soda at restaurants. Coke, Sprite, Fanta, etc all come in slightly-fancily shaped glasses here. While it looks nice, the portion is usually around .33L and ridiculously expensive. Along with that, I also miss free refills.

- American football. I love soccer, I’m pretty good at it, but nothing beats the roar of a blue-and-white-clad crowd shouting “We Are! Penn State!”

- Grocery stores being open on Sundays. Although it’s not a big deal to do all the shopping on Saturday, sometimes you forget something here and there, and then nope, gotta wait until Monday to get it. To this, I will add stores staying open past 5 or 6PM...

- Not being stared at. I’d like to introduce you all to a concept commonly known as “the German stare.” In any given situation, whether it’s on the tram, in a restaurant, standing on the street waiting for the light to change, people are often the subjects of intense stares. This is not me being paranoid either; all of my colleagues have this experience. In any sort of situation in public space, you may be on the receiving end of a fixed, intense stare. I guess my problem is that where I come from, if you stare at or look at someone the wrong way, it is interpreted as extremely offensive and could end up in a dangerous situation. Suffice it to say, I was rather uncomfortable when I first arrived here. I was even quite offended at one point; I had just bought my monthly tram/subway/bus pass, and was sitting on the tram writing down my pass numbers on the actual ticket. When I took my wallet out to get the numbers, a man sitting next to me and his wife in the seat across from me both leaned over to look at my wallet. I responded with a fierce stare, at which point they both glanced away. We Americans in Germany, however, have developed our own remedies. One of my colleagues prefers to return stares with greater intensity. Another offers this piece of advice: “when a German stares at you, just tell yourself it’s because you’re extremely attractive.” I, on the other hand, will return the stare, wave and say “hello!” at which point the staring German does not know what to do and looks around in a slightly chaotic and confused manner.

- India Pale Ale. This is a type of beer characterized by a very bitter flavor. Its name comes from the beer’s history…when India was a British colony, beer would be brewed in Britain for the officers and then shipped to India. However, the beer wouldn’t last the long ship voyage and would go bad by the time it reached India. So the brewers loaded the beer of up with hops, the type of plant used to flavor beer and which also serves as a natural preservative, and the beer would survive the voyage. Because of the large amount of hops added, however, the beer was extremely bitter. The tradition of brewing IPAs continues until this day, but you just can’t find them in Germany.

- Driving. Yeah, it’s cool to take the train everywhere (especially a treat over here since Amtrak is absolutely awful), but there’s something special about cruising down the highway with the windows down and the radio up. I also miss the freedom of being able to hop in the car and go wherever I want. This just cannot be done here, as I do not have a car, and am admittedly slightly terrified of driving in Europe. Europeans are some of the most insane drivers I’ve ever encountered.

- Tastykake. I think you have to be from Philly to understand this one.

- American English. I can only take so much British English. What the heck is a biro? Why would I want to cook with something called black treacle? Does the freeway get jammed up with lorries? (biro = pen, black treacle = molasses, lorry = truck) Furthermore, I can only take so much broken German-trying-to-speak-English English. No you do not come from a weddy little willich. ("very little village").

- Fashion that doesn't cross "that line." Although, generally speaking, Europeans are more fashionable than Americans, sometimes Europeans just get absolutely ridiculous with how they clothe themselves. It's not uncommon to see a stout young German gentleman covered in orange rub-on tan, a fixed plume of stiff gel-doused hair atop his head. One can also see Italians from far away on account of their unabashed use of many colors at once. Also, because the English language is extremely fashionable here, it's also not uncommon to see t-shirts and even pants featuring, for example, English words in various fonts which are organized basically into gibberish, which I guess is some superficial attempt at a cultural statement. Seriously, I once saw a t-shirt that said "a magic fly," "comin,  into love (sic)," "ska-ke it!" "every Tuesday treat the nutty cowbell!"

Well...that's about it for now. Catch ya on the flip side!

Sarajevo

Alright, first off, I apologize for the general delay in posting. I got lazy about blogging in November, and am only now recovering from said laziness. This post I’m about to make is a much-requested one, so without further ado, I present Sarajevo…

 

We had a break during the first week of November. I think that since it takes we Americans 7-9 hours or more to get to Europe, one should travel as much as possible when there. Last year I went to Sweden, among other destinations that were part of my program’s curriculum. I’ve seen a great deal of Western Europe, and I decided it was time to go further afield. 3 colleagues and myself decided to go to Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

 

I don’t think I need to say that the city of Sarajevo has experienced a lot. For hundreds of years it served as an outpost for the Ottoman Empire, before being integrated into the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the 19^th century. The murder of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1914 by a Serbian assassin was the catalyst for World War I. And, as I’m sure many of you remember, the city was under siege from 1992 to 1996 as a result of the breakup of Yugoslavia. I myself can remember news reports of the siege from when I was a child, and those “buzzwords” still stick with me: “Sarajevo,” “Bosnian Serbs,” “Slobodan Milosevic,” and so on. Obviously I was too young to fully grasp what was happening in Bosnia at the time, and since then I’ve had a particular interest in the Balkans region. So, going to Sarajevo seemed like a golden opportunity.

 

We boarded a flight from Stuttgart, Germany to Sarajevo on November 4, 2008. As we got closer to Sarajevo and as our altitude dropped, I looked out the window and was treated with my first real-life view of the Balkans. It’s rather mountainous country, with lots of valleys and villages scattered about. 

Two thoughts popped into my mind: “It’s so beautiful” and “I wonder how many land mines are still out there.” (Seriously though, one needs a tour guide when in the mountains just outside of Sarajevo...there are still a lot of landmines out there). We landed in Sarajevo, went through passport control, and took a taxi to our hostel. The airport is 10 kilometers outside of the city center, so we got a pretty good look at the city and surrounding region along the way. We spent most of the ride along a grand, Soviet-style four-lane avenue separate by a median with tram tracks. I would later find out that this road was nicknamed “Sniper Alley” during the siege. Anyways, we sped along the avenue towards the city center. A tram trundled down the tracks, rocking steadily back and forth. The rear door was off a hinge, and the door swung open and closed as the tram car rocked. As we entered the city center, the road curved to the left and narrowed a great deal. At the curve was a massive building with its roof missing. A mortar had hit it during the siege. After the curve, the road went along the river which runs through Sarajevo, the Miljacka (meel-jats-ka) River. We took a left turn down a narrow street, then another left down an equally narrow street, and the taxi parked there. We had to walk the rest of the way to our hostel because the street was too narrow for cars.

 

The hostel was situated on the top floor of an apartment building. We walked inside the building to find a run-down stairwell. On the fourth floor was a door with the hostel’s insignia on it. The employees greeted us and showed us to our room. Everything look brand new, and indeed it was. The hostel wasn’t even 1 year old. I snagged the top bunk of one of the bunk beds. We were relaxing when I heard a voice singing a familiar song. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it sounded like a religious song. Then I suddenly realized what it was and sprang to the window so I could hear better: it was a man singing adan, the Muslim call to worship. We decided to explore the city.

 

Our hostel was a short walk from the historic center of town. We enjoyed a dinner of čevapčiči (chevahp-chee-chee), which the employee at the hostel called “Bosnian fast food.” It was several small sausages with diced onions inside a big piece of flatbread. All I have to say is no wonder there are no McDonald’s restaurants in Sarajevo…Bosnian fast food blows McDonalds away. We walked around the city some more, and ended up alongside the Miljacka River. We were standing before a relatively ornate bridge, and I thought it looked familiar. I turned to the left and on the building there was a plaque, which read, “From this place on June 28, 1914, Gavrilo Princip assassinated the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sofia.” This was the Latin Bridge. After shooting Ferdinand, Princip jumped into the water in an attempt to flee. However, the Miljacka River is only about 4 feet deep, so police soon apprehended him.

 

We spent the next day exploring the city further, and also marks the time I entered houses of worship of four different faiths in one day: a Catholic cathedral, an Orthodox church, a Jewish synagogue, and a Muslim mosque. This brings me to one of the points about Sarajevo: it is an extremely multi-cultural city, and all these different cultures live with one another with mutual respect. Unfortunately this is a concept many places in the United States lack and I wish they would be more culturally understanding. This is not a new concept, either. Sarajevo and indeed all the Balkans have been cultural crossroads for centuries, and except during times of war these cultures have lived peacefully among one another. Anyways…our visit to the cathedral was cut short when a nun instructed us to leave. Our next visit was Bey’s Mosque, Sarajevo’s most famous Muslim place of worship. I was really excited about going inside the mosque. The mosque grounds had a large courtyard, a fountain, and a separate building for washing one’s feet. We wanted to enter the actual place of worship, but one of the five daily sets of prayers was happening, and we, not wanting to be gawking tourists, thought it more respectful to stay outside. However, we did find another mosque not too far from the center (there are lots of mosques in Sarajevo). The gate to the courtyard was locked, but as we turned around to leave a lady came out of the gate and said something to us in Bosnian. When we didn’t respond she asked “You want to go in?” to which we replied “yes please!” She then asked us where we were from. Upon learning that we were Americans she smiled and said “Ah! Congratulations on your new president!” (this was November 5). I thought to myself, “I can smell America’s reputation abroad beginning to improve.” Anyways, we walked through the gate and around the grounds. There was a little tea house to the right and the main mosque building to the left. We decided to go in, but weren’t exactly sure what the proper etiquette was. We watched a man walk up to the pathway which led to the mosque’s door, take his shoes off, walk down the carpeted pathway, and enter. We did the same. Inside, the floor was also covered with carpets. Over the door frame and over every window there were phrases in Arabic, which I’m guessing were quotes from the Qu’aran. We stood there and took it all in. The room to the left of the main hall appeared to be a school of sorts. There was also a stairway leading upwards, but we thought it too intrusive to investigate. We were the only ones there except for another man who came in a little while afterwards. He walked up to a small altar and said a few prayers, then left. We also left shortly thereafter. We walked for a bit, and then came across a large yellowish building. It was an old Ashkenazi Jewish synagogue (“Ashkenazi Jews” refers to Jews descended from the Jewish communities of medieval western Germany). A man had to unlock the door for us, and we were led into a relatively small worship room, featuring wooden pews and an ornate ark (the cabinet used to store each particular synagogue’s Torah). We thanked the man for letting us in, and then left.

 

Now, being in the Balkans, Sarajevo is very hilly. After departing the city center and crossing the river, we walked up an extremely steep road (thank goodness for parking brakes!), which took us to Alfakovac cemetery. Graves with religious symbols of all faiths could be found here, and the top of the hill offered a beautiful view of the city.

 

We continued our tour of the city, which included an Orthodox cathedral and Sarajevo’s Jewish Museum. We ended the day at a traditional Bosnian restaurant. I’ll just say it up front: Bosnian food rocks. I had vegetables stuffed with ground beef and sausage, served with cream in a tomato-based sauce. Add in a gigantic chunk of fresh Bosnian flatbread and you’ve got a killer meal. Here, have a gander:

 

 

Our next day consisted of a trip to Mostar, a city southwest of Sarajevo. It is well-known for a bridge which spans the Neretva River. The bus ride took about three hours, during which we went up mountains, down mountains, around mountains, and even through mountains! Upon arrival in Mostar, we had a quick cup of espresso and then did some exploring. It didn’t take us long to find the bridge, which we later found out not only connects the two sides of the town, but also serves as the border between the Croat and Bosniak parts of town. Croats (i.e. ethnically Croatian people) are predominantly Catholic, while Bosniaks (i.e. ethnically Bosnian people) are predominantly Muslim. For whatever reason the town has historically had this separation. We ate lunch on the terrace of a restaurant alongside the river. Unfortunately from here on I was not able to fully enjoy the trip to Mostar, because I got food poisoning or something that made my stomach wacky. Nonetheless, Mostar is a gorgeous city, and I did enjoy my time there.

 

Our last day in Sarajevo was the most somber. Before I begin with that, it’s important to understand the Bosnian War. I’ll explain it as best as I can. The country called Yugoslavia broke up in 1992, and several new states were formed. Serbia, predominantly Orthodox Christian, received most of the former Yugoslavia’s army, which was the 4^th largest in the world at the time. In Bosnia, there is a large population of ethnic Serbians (Serbs), and the leaders of Serbia set out to conquer territory, which led to the siege of Sarajevo, and many other horrors of war including the Srebrenica massacre.

 

We took the “tunnel tour,” which refers to the “Tunnel of Hope” through which the citizens of Sarajevo smuggled weapons, food and supplies into the city, and through which citizens attempted to escape during the siege. We met our tour guide in front of the tourist information center, and drove in his van to a part of the city just near the airport. Our tour guide was a relatively young fellow who was wounded while fighting for Bosnia during the siege. It was absolutely fantastic to get his perspective. As it turns out, he, like many Bosnians, are resentful to the United Nations. The UN attempted to set up a system to deliver aid to Sarajevans during the siege, but ended up striking a deal with the Serbian generals who led the forces shelling the city: the Serbians got 50% of the supplies that came in on UN flights. Additionally, UN Blue Helmets rode around the city in armored personnel carriers during the siege. Our tour guide described them as “tourists, sitting there taking pictures of us as we dodged explosions and sniper fire and fought to live.” I really can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to spend every day running from building to building, wondering if a rocket will explode outside my window, if a sniper will catch me through a window.

 

Anyways, we got to the tunnel, which during the siege ran 300 meters underneath the Sarajevo airport. It started in the basement of a private residence that volunteered their home for the supply route, and ended up on the other side of the airport in territory outside of the siege grounds. For safety reasons it’s now been reduced to 25 meters. As you can see, I couldn’t stand up straight inside the tunnel.

 Now imagine running through the tunnel with a pack weighing 60 lbs on your back. The tunnel had to be kept operational at all times, so special care had to be taken when moving explosives through the tunnel. The tunnel tour also featured a 15-minute video of the siege: buildings exploding, tank and rocket shells landing in the city day and night, people running after the sound of gunshots, children crying.

 

After the tunnel tour, we headed back to the city center. Along the way we drove on that same grand avenue as we did on the first day, and it was on this day that we learned that this was “Sniper Alley.” The avenue is lined with tall apartment buildings and hotels, from which snipers shot at people during the siege. It was also on this street that the Bosnian war began. The Bosnian parliament building and its plaza sit on the street, and across the street is the Sarajevo Holiday Inn. On April 5, 1992, a peaceful protest was held on the plaza. From the Holiday Inn a sniper killed 10 protestors. The Serbian army had already begun siege preparations before April 5, and the siege went into full effect from there.

 

While walking around Sarajevo, I realized that I’ve never been in a place where the scars of the past are as visible as they are here. Buildings are still riddled with bullet holes and in some cases rocket holes, and what at first glance appears to be cracks in the sidewalk are actually “Sarajevo Roses,” spots where mortars hit, sending shrapnel flying.

 

As we were heading back to our hotel from a museum visit, I noticed a bright yellow piece of paper on the ground. I picked it up, and realized that is was a 100-marka (about $75) bill lying on the ground. I picked it up and thought “alright, free dinner!” Then I thought for another second and decided that this city needed it more than I did. Despite economic growth, lots of construction and opportunity, the city of Sarajevo and its inhabitants are still relatively poor (the siege completely destroyed the economic prosperity brought on after the Olympics were held here in 1984). So after buying some food for myself and colleagues, I walked around the city center and gave the money to all the beggars I could find.

 

So, that was my trip. I hope you enjoyed reading about Sarajevo. Took me a while to put it up, no?

US System vs. German System - Education

Impressions of the German education system

Well, it’s just about 3 months exactly since I got to Europe. As you all know, my reason for being here is to serve as an English teaching assistant, providing the expertise only a native speaker can provide. Over the course of the past 3 months, I’ve been able to observe the inner workings of a German classroom. I’ve made these observations, and begun to form my own impressions. Here they are.

 

1) The German school system is unfair

German children are basically put on a track starting with age 10. Most children attend kindergarten, and then go on to Grundschule, the rough equivalent of elementary school, which lasts until the 4^th grade. In the 5^th grade, students attend one of three kinds of schools: Gymnasium, Realschule or Hauptschule. Students at Gymnasiums are considered to be the cream of the crop. The focus of study is primarily academia, so as to prepare the students for going to university. Realschule is roughly similar to an American vocational school. In addition to the basics, students learn practical skills for a jobs such as electrician, mechanic, and so on. Hauptschulen are the most stigmatized, socially speaking. Hauptschule students tend to be those of foreign birth and who lack German language skills, those with poor academic abilities, and especially those with behavioral problems. For example, a colleague of mine who works at a Hauptschule told me yesterday that a student of his recently was expelled for attacking a teacher.

 

My point here is that there is little to no room for students to change tracks. Students who fail out of Gymnasien go to either Realschulen or Hauptschulen. Students finish Hauptschule in the 10^th grade, at which point they may take a test to enter Gymnasium or Realschule for the last 3 years of schooling, or they may start their careers. Others might go on to an apprenticeship or more vocational training. While it may seem like students are given a fair chance, they are stigmatized by society all along the way. Imagine being a 10-year old child, being placed into a school by way of teacher recommendation and perhaps having little upward social mobility as a result. A child surely cannot comprehend the unfair nature of this system.

 

2) The style of learning in Germany is completely different from that of the US, and in my view, counter-productive.

My evidence here is anecdotal. In the United States, students in middle and high school receive grades based on several aspects of their performance: attendance, class participation, homework, quizzes, tests, midterms and finals. This is more or less standard in the American education system. All of these except for tests, midterms and finals are nonexistent in Germany. Teachers are actually not allowed to grade homework. Today I learned from one of my mentor-teachers that if he were to give a homework assignment, grade it and factor that into the student’s final grade, he’d get in trouble. I recently gave a simple homework assignment to one of my upper-level English classes. The teacher told me shortly thereafter not to expect all of the students to turn the work in. Most of the students did do the assignment, but as a result I realized how uncommon homework is in Germany. Sure, students might have to read a set number of chapters per night or answer questions from a textbook, but I feel that since they do not receive a grade for this specific aspect of the class, they are generally speaking less motivated to do the work. When students don’t do the work, they fall behind. When they fall behind, they fail. When they fail, society ostracizes them, and there is little to nothing they can do about it.

 

3) The student-teacher relationship isn’t as private as that in the United States

I’d describe the relationships between students and teachers in the USA as private. Private, in the sense that students’ performance in terms of grades is kept between that student and the teacher. In Germany, teachers willingly state to the whole class who received the best grade on a test, assignment, etc.

Furthermore, I’ve found that the students aren’t afraid to ask the teachers personal questions. This is something I steered clear of doing in the States, yet students in some of my classes have asked teachers if they have significant others, among other personal questions.

 

4) School spirit is rare, if not nonexistent.

Whereas many aspects of an American high school student’s social life will revolve around the school in one way or another (sports, most notably), Germans spend what seems to be as little time as possible at school. School sports teams are rare (at least in soccer, youth clubs outside of schools are more popular options), schools have no mascots, etc. One exception I’ve found is school band; these are quite popular, as are their performances. School clothing is a brand-new concept. Of course, not every American student is full of school pride (I wasn’t…until I went to Penn State!), but generally speaking, I think the level of school spirit is drastically lower here than in the States.

 

Okay, so the past few posts were kind of negative. I do see some wonderful aspects of the German education, ones, which I strongly believe the United States education system, could benefit from. Most notably, number 5…

 

5) The age at which students begin learning languages

Children here start learning foreign languages in the 5^th grade. This means that they will have had 8 years of a language by the time they graduate (Gymnasium goes to the 13^th grade). By contrast, most American students don’t start learning a foreign language until 7^th grade, and it’s often not required that they take the language every year of schooling. It’s been scientifically proven that humans are capable of learning languages more easily up to age 14, so why not start teaching a foreign language early? The practical ability to communicate with non-English speakers goes without saying, but when you learn a language, you also learn a culture, and for these reasons I think it’s a great idea to start teaching foreign languages early.

 

6) The school day is a lot shorter

An average American school day lasts from about 8AM until 3PM or so. An average German school day lasts from about 8AM until 1 or 1:30PM. If it lasts longer, there is something called Mittagspause, a long break in the middle of the day to allow students to go home for lunch and then return to school. Naturally, the slacker in me says “shorter school days? Yeah!” but when you think logically, it makes sense. It’s not nearly as mentally demanding. Students presumably wouldn’t be as worn out as quickly.

 

I’m sure I’m forgetting a few things, but I’ll be sure to report them as time goes on.

 

Tschau!

The time I appeared in the German newspaper...

Hey everyone! I was interviewed, along with some other Americans, by the local newspaper (Nuernberger Nachrichten; "Nuremberg News") about the 2008 presidential election. I toiled long and hard to translate the article for you all, so here it is. Also, please let me give a disclaimer first. Most of the quotes are not direct quotes; the reporter made small notes in his notebook, and basically put the words in our mouths. The gist of the quotes are correct, but I think he mixed up  a bit on who said what. Also, the wording might seem a bit awkward, because there are certain expression in German that are not easily translated into English. I've included a few of my own notes, enclosed in parentheses. One last thing, the print edition called me "Dave Hardeson" so naturally I had to change that. So, without further ado...

Original article is located here: http://www.nn-online.de/artikel.asp?art=908391&kat=10&man=3

“Obama will make it”

Americans in Nuremberg on the presidential campaign

By Wolfgang Heilig-Achneck and Johannes Alles

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Doug Ballas, Dave Hardison, Libba Bray, Kyle Hartwell at the German-American Institute.

In one week the American citizens will elect a new president. Also Americans in the Nuremberg region follow the campaign with special interest.

 “We have become true news junkies,” the three foreign teaching assistants, Douglas Ballas, Kyle Hartwell and Dave Hardison, admit. Writer Libba Bray agrees as well, as the group met at the German-American Institute (DAI).

 Regarding the secrecy of the ballot and privacy, schoolchildren have little to leave out. “The first thing they all wanted to know was for whom I will vote,” reports Dave Hardison, who hails from Philadelphia and now works in a secondary school supporting the English teaching staff. “If they were Americans, almost all of them would have supported Obama,” he learned from his students.

 Likewise young people in American also candidly avow themselves to one or another candidate, assert all three foreign teaching assistants. Of course in the Bavarian school system there are policies against being so direct. Teachers are not allowed to explicitly refer to their political stance, so Hardison was not allowed to say. It will be more stressful when it is necessary to explain to them the complicated campaign system. “Most German schoolchildren know central points and information, but still less about the background and our political system,” asserted Doug Ballas, who is from McCain’s home state of Arizona. To adjust that is not his assignment in the long run.

 He perceives in the meantime very little from the much-quoted disenchantment with politics. Of course there are schoolchildren who believe it unnecessary to pay attention to politics. In the USA it is beneficial to the candidates to sway young people and to register new voters.

 “Sometimes it’s difficult to explain to the Germans that there are in fact good reasons to vote for McCain,” Kyle Hartwell said. She comes from a military family, which traditionally are for the Republican candidates. After a year at a secondary school she teachers at the Erlangen (town just outside of Nuremberg) adult education center and the senior center – and discussed the election with those participants who had an interest in politics. Only one irritated her: “I don’t know why so many like to place bets on the election result.”

 She follows the large American media’s coverage daily, as do her colleagues. And she never misses the political satire “The Daily Show,” in which the giants (meaning candidates) are lampooned. Apropos internet. “How Obama consistently takes advantage of this medium is totally new in this campaign,” means Hardison. The crude numbers of the expenditures of both candidates are indeed divine (?): more than $420 million have been spent by both candidates on ads, the lion’s share of which for TV and radio ads.

 Kyle sees a second large difference between the last presidential campaign four years ago in terms of basic characteristics: “at that time Bush already was in office; the campaign with Kerry was truly not a campaign. This time it’s between two new candidates – for this reason it’s exciting.” And Obama thus is so popular, especially among students, because he is like the new Kennedy.

 Libba Bray, who for the second night is speaking at the DAI library, makes no secret of her political conviction. Since the author from New York began traveling through Germany from book reading to book reading, she has been peppered with all sorts of questions from the audience, in most cases the standard question of who her favorite candidate is. In her case, the answer is no mystery, because she has associated herself with the “young adult supporters” of Obama – because with McCain women would be repressed into antiquated rolls. And although there is much in her books about myths and mystery, there is a deeper meaning of a political message.

 With almost unbelievable amazement John Davis follows the campaign. For the first time in the history of the USA a person of color has a good chance to become president. “A historical moment,” says Davis, a musician and music producer in Nuremberg and Fürth (a town just west of Nuremberg). One hears the enthusiasm in his voice. Davis grew up in the state of South Carolina. Davis, 54, experienced as a young child the meaning of racial discrimination. On the bus, he and his mother had to stand in the back, because the front was designated “for whites only,” even when there were free seats. And he is confident, “Obama will make it.”

John Davis, musician and music producer, shows a campaign poster with a picture of Barack Obama. His candidacy is "a historic moment," said Davis. Davis sings in Nuremberg and Fürth.

The Phillies and Halloween

First off, congratulations to the Philadelphia Phillies, 2008 World Series Champions!!!

As a life-long fan of the championship-starved Fightin' Phils, words cannot really express how I feel. I'm ecstatic, of course. This is the first time a Philadelphia professional sports team has won a championship since 1983, and the first time that the Phillies have won the championship since 1980. I couldn't help that both of the Phillies' World Series victories ended the exact same way; with a strikeout. Seeing the images and videos of the game's highlights and aftermath of the dugout pouring out and the teammates piling onto each other honestly brought tears to my eyes. I have not felt this passionate about baseball since the Phillies won the National League Championship Series in 1993 again the Atlanta Braves. However...at the same time, I'm a little upset that I'm not in Philadelphia to bask in the celebration. Apparently people were out all over Broad Street (one of the major north-south arterial streets in Philly) celebrating. Plus, the victory parade is being held today. Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted to be abroad, serving as a teaching assistant, but at the same time, a Phillies World Series victory is a rare event, and unfortunately I'm not there to experience the celebration.

Also, today is Halloween. Halloween is not celebrated as extensively as in the USA. Costume parties are popular among university students, but children do not dress up and go trick-or-treating. Well, in my status as English teaching assistant and more-or-less American cultural ambassador, I decided to give a lesson on Halloween on Wednesday to the 6th graders (Thursday I'm with older kids and Fridays I have off). I have not shaven for almost the entire month, but on Tuesday night shaved it down to a moustache. I bought a cheap pair of reading glasses, punched out the lenses, and donned a pink shirt and a green sweater, and so I'm Ned Flanders from "The Simpsons" for Halloween!

Now, is it just me, or do I look slightly like my father with the glasses and mustache?

The 6th graders really enjoyed the lesson, probably because "The Simpsons" is one of the most popular TV shows in Germany. But apparently I've achieved rock star status among these kids; when word spread that I was going to be teaching that day, they started banging on their desks chanting "We want Dave! We want Dave!"

That's all for now...I've got some bureaucratic matters to which I must now attend. Thanks for stopping by!